


Well Past Breakfast

by ladyoakenshields



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, M/M, Married Life, Pillow Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 15:45:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3255380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoakenshields/pseuds/ladyoakenshields
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin believes he is owed his few extra hours of sleep on their holiday. Bilbo's stomach thinks otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well Past Breakfast

Bilbo blinked in the bright sunlight that early morning brought. He enjoyed feeling the sun on his face after all his time spent in the mountain kingdom of Erebor. He yawned and stretched as he turned onto his side and was greeted with the sight of the Dwarf-King of Erebor still fast asleep beside him. The sound soft snoring filled the air and Bilbo smiled fondly at his husband. 

They were in Rivendell on the last leg of their trip back to the Shire. Bilbo had been Thorin’s consort for nearly seven years now and at long last they’d decided to take a small sabbatical to return back to the Shire for a quiet year of rest and relaxation without any duties weighing them down or interrupting them. 

Dís had promised to write to them on a frequent basis to keep them up to date on the goings on in the kingdom, but she insisted they go and stay as long as they needed. Bilbo did admit that the first month or so they spent away from the mountain was stressful, and he couldn’t imagine how Thorin must have been doing. But Bilbo knew the mountain was in good hands and that between Dís, Fíli and Balin there’d be nothing they couldn’t handle.

Bilbo was beyond glad to finally have this time off and since his and Thorin’s wedding in Erebor, it hardly seemed that they had any time to themselves. Their lives mostly consisted of waking up early and hurrying to get dressed to tend to their duties for the day and then dragging themselves back to their chambers late at night once everything had been dealt with and things already scheduled for the next day. 

Every once in a while they had a slow day and had an extra couple hours to themselves but those were far and few between and they usually were continuously working themselves ragged. 

So, in the meantime, Bilbo was enjoying every quiet, non-rushed moment he and Thorin had to themselves. Even if, in the case of staying at Rivendell, Thorin was a little grumpier than usual. But once they fell into the plush beds that Rivendell had to offer, all insults of the elves died on Thorin’s lips and they enjoyed sleeping on a proper bed for the first time in months. 

The hobbit sleepily studied Thorin’s peaceful expressionless face as his bare chest slowly rose up and down steadily and the sound of his heavy breathing was most relaxing to Bilbo. Bilbo’s eyes were drawn to the pale scar that stretched across Thorin’s abdomen. Bilbo’s stomach twisted unpleasantly, remembering how his hand had been soaked with hot sticky blood from Thorin’s wound when Bilbo had found him just after battle. 

Bilbo's hand went to gently touch the scar tissue reminding himself that Thorin had survived and was perfectly safe. He smiled as his hand came in contact with Thorin’s warm skin and his fingers were tickled by the dark hair trailing down Thorin’s stomach. 

His eyes travelled upwards and his gaze landed on the scars that faintly decorated the dwarf’s face. Bilbo had seen all of these wounds up close and personal while were still fresh. The memories of Thorin’s battered and wounded body still made Bilbo a bit nauseous to think about. He closed his eyes and brought himself back to this moment where they were safe and no memory of the pain or anxiety over Thorin's survival could reach him. 

To soothe himself Bilbo sat up a little and leaned in to gently press his lips against the most pronounced scar running from Thorin’s right eyebrow and up into his hair line. As he pulled away Thorin sighed and gave a low hum before his eyes fluttered open.

“Good morning, your Highness,” Thorin muttered with a faint smile and his eyelids slid shut again. 

“Good morning, your Majesty,” Bilbo replied with a sleepy smile in return.

“You’re up early,” Thorin murmured as he shifted closer to where Bilbo lay. Bilbo tucked the dwarf’s head under his chin and his hands worked to gently undo the loose braid Thorin had pulled his hair into the night before. He could feel Thorin's warm breath against his collarbone and the dwarf's nose gently pushed against the crook of Bilbo's neck. 

“Mm, I think you’re just waking up quite late,” Bilbo explained, his fingers lazily running through Thorin’s hair. “According to my stomach, we’ve missed breakfast. The elves have already begun singing for the day, too.”

“Did they ever _stop?”_ Thorin muttered irritably. “They were singing last night as we fell asleep, weren't they?” Bilbo chuckled, tucking his chin in to press a kiss to the top of Thorin’s head. Bilbo silently noted how light the dwarf’s hair had grown in the past several years. The stress of the quest and rebuilding the kingdom had placed a few new streaks of grey in the king’s hair and had turned the already greying strands completely silver. Thorin gave a content hum as he curled in closer against Bilbo’s chest. “Besides, I thought we were on holiday.” 

“We _are_ on holiday,” Bilbo replied with a soft chuckle.

“Then I believe I’m owed my few extra hours of sleep,” Thorin muttered. The dwarf's fingers came up behind Bilbo’s back to find the curls at the base of the hobbit’s neck and he threaded his fingers through them. 

“I’m not going anywhere. Not yet,” Bilbo sighed softly. “Can’t when you’ve got this tight a hold on me.” Bilbo smiled. 

“Good.” Thorin shifted, slightly. “That was my intention.” 

They fell quiet for a few moments and Bilbo savored the feeling of the dwarf pressed up against his chest. It wasn’t long before Bilbo’s stomach let out a loud gurgle, protesting that it was well past its normal breakfast time. The hobbit blushed and hoped that Thorin had fallen asleep again and didn’t hear the impossibly loud sound. 

“Was that your stomach?” Thorin asked quietly, and Bilbo could hear him trying to suppress his laughter. 

“I told you that it _is_  well past breakfast,” Bilbo muttered as he felt a blush rise in his cheeks. 

“It sounds like you haven’t eaten in three days!” Thorin remarked, chuckling as he loosened his grip on Bilbo, his hand trailing down and resting on Bilbo’s hip. “And I know that isn’t true because I saw you last night at dinner. You didn’t just eat seconds, you ate _thirds._ I think the elves were all quite impressed with your voracity.”  

“It was quite a nice change of pace from the camp food we’ve been eating every night.” Bilbo shifted and rolled over onto his other side, his back now pressed against Thorin as his eyes slipped shut again. “My stomach wouldn’t be so loud if we’d gotten up at a normal time.” 

“I thought I’d be safe to assume that you would _want_ to sleep in,” Thorin sighed. “I must be mistaken…it’s usually you complaining about waking so early, I don’t know why this is suddenly a problem.”

“On the road we’re up at dawn with a hurried breakfast so we can keep traveling. Then at the mountain we’re usually up early for whatever duties we have that day and there’s no promise of a leisurely breakfast…which, I would like more often,” Bilbo cut Thorin off before he could protest about that one time a year beforehand they’d had a very leisurely breakfast on Bilbo’s birthday. “You dwarves don’t stop very often to break for food, either.” 

“Don’t act like we starve you at the mountain,” Thorin teased as he nuzzled his nose against Bilbo’s neck. “You’re always eating. You even had a tray of food brought to you when that last council meeting with Bard and Thranduil ran late.” 

“I can’t help that you three droned on, arguing circles around each other for hours on end,” Bilbo scoffed, accompanied by a yawn. “Besides, I have to maintain my hobbit figure,” Bilbo retorted. 

“Mm, I’m glad you do,” Thorin purred as his hands found their way under Bilbo’s sleeping tunic and his fingers slid over the hobbit’s soft, pudgy stomach. Bilbo squirmed as a smile was drawn from his lips and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

“Stop it now, you’re tickling me.” Bilbo’s own hand quickly went to find Thorin’s to pull away from his now exposed stomach. 

“My apologies,” Thorin murmured, not sounding apologetic in the least. “That was not my intention.”  Bilbo batted Thorin away from his ear as it twitched in response to being tickled by the dwarf's beard.

“You,” Bilbo turned back around in Thorin’s grasp to face him, “are a ridiculous dwarf, Thorin Oakenshield.”  

“But I’m your ridiculous dwarf, Bilbo Baggins,” Thorin mumbled, with a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

“That you are,” Bilbo hummed, bringing his hands up to Thorin’s face and pulled him in for a soft kiss on his lips. “Now, please. Can we get up and find some breakfast?” 

“Only if it will quiet your stomach.” Thorin pecked Bilbo’s lips once more. “With any luck, it’ll silence those elves with their ridiculous singing, too.” 

“Perhaps they’d stop their _ridiculous singing_ to hear a song from you,” Bilbo suggested as he slowly sat up and watched his husband swing his legs over the side of the bed. “You did bring your harp after all.” 

“I will share no songs with these elves,” Thorin grumbled as his fingers lazily went to tie his hair into a low ponytail. 

“And would you consider me a traitor if I shared my own songs with the elves?” Bilbo asked teasingly, eyeing the back of Thorin’s head skeptically. He was not asking for Thorin’s permission and Thorin knew that well enough. 

“Do what you wish.” Thorin finally stood up and came around to Bilbo’s side of the bed. “I just want to be back in the Shire sometime before spring ends.” 

“Are you insinuating that my singing would delay our trip?” Bilbo questioned looking up at his husband and Thorin merely raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I promise I won't delay our trip any further,” Bilbo promised finally. 

“I am glad,” Thorin murmured bowing down to meet Bilbo’s lips for a brief kiss. “I am eager to see the Shire once again.” Bilbo gave a small lopsided smile to Thorin before slowly pulling himself out of bed. 

“Good. Now please, put a shirt on before we go join Lord Elrond for breakfast,” Bilbo pleaded as he went to find his pair of trousers to pull on. 

“I’m on holiday,” Thorin rebuked while he stretched. “I think I shall wear whatever I wish to breakfast.” 

“You may be on holiday, O King Under the Mountain, but you still must answer to your husband and your husband does not wish for you to embarrass us any more than you already have,” Bilbo replied sweetly, with a commanding look in his eyes. 

Thorin quickly pulled on a tunic in response and quietly grumbled while fighting off a wry smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet stemmed from a couple of things: 1. Every time I see BOTFA and see Thorin's wounds I think about what wonderful scars they'd make after Thorin absolutely lives and has recovered :'))) & 2\. [Realizing how comfortable the beds in Rivendell look after rewatching FOTR. ](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/post/107820667683/sees-how-soft-and-fluffy-the-beds-are-in) (I also found it amusing that in the books the elves in Rivendell are always singing and no doubt would irritate Thorin greatly.) 
> 
> Maybe one of these days I'll write a proper lengthy fix-it AU fic I'm happy with but 'til then I'm happy sharing little snippets of what their lives might be like several years down the road~
> 
> [on tumblr~](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/post/109566796593/hobbitunderthemountain-thorin-believes-he-is-owed)


End file.
